


hear them whispering

by screechfox



Series: they keep trying to row away [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captivity, Dehumanization, Fantasies of Vivisection, Ficlet, Gen, Isolation, MerMay, Sadism, Violins, elias bouchard has many hobbies - like playing violin and keeping mermen in captivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:19:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: Elias is already in his study when Jon’s wordless song begins to resonate in the walls of the house, and it’s a simple matter of reaching across his desk to retrieve his violin from its case.Elias plays some music.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard & Jonathan Sims
Series: they keep trying to row away [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735714
Comments: 24
Kudos: 166





	hear them whispering

**Author's Note:**

> the intended soundtrack to this ficlet is [_13 Angels Standing Guard 'Round The Side Of Your Bed_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fN7udMAMog), which is a long title but trust me on this. it's what inspired me to write this in the first place
> 
> i had to take a brief break from my other fic in this series! ... by writing more fic set in the same universe, i guess

Elias is already in his study when Jon’s wordless song begins to resonate in the walls of the house, and it’s a simple matter of reaching across his desk to retrieve his violin from its case.

It’s a gentle, wordless thing, notes rising and falling without any melody. Jon’s song evokes the sounds of whale calls, the pitiful desire of a creature that wants nothing more than to be heard. Futile, of course; beautiful in its hopeless desperation. There must be something self-soothing to the song, or else he doubts that Jon would bother making any noise at all.

For a few minutes, Elias does nothing but listen. 

It’s the wrong kind of fear — the sort of thing that Peter might feast on — but he savours the taste of that misery in the air, sharp as the first snow in winter. 

Elias raises the base of the violin to his chin, smiling at the familiar pressure against his skin. 

In truth, he doesn’t know how Jon produces such a mournful sound with his voice long-vanished. Perhaps if Elias were aligned with the Flesh, he would take a scalpel to that angular throat. It would be fascinating to vivisect all of the changes that have happened to Jon, any superficial hints of humanity betrayed by the finer details of his inner anatomy. Curiosity is a powerful force.

Elias imagines it now: the bow in his hand as a saw, the thin neck between his fingers fluttering with life. Pressing down on the strings, he recalls how lovely Jon looks when gasping for air.

The violin sings as Elias begins to play. He tries to harmonise with the pitch of Jon’s lamentation, and idly wonders whether Jon can still scream.

A knife would shine so strikingly when pressed against Jon’s skin; flickers of avarice-green reflected on gleaming metal. Even after all this time, he isn’t sure what colour Jon bleeds. One has to assume that it’s an ordinary red, but you can never be sure with these things. Perhaps it’s tinted with that firefly glow, or the turquoise of his scales, or even a deep ink-black.

He draws the bow across the strings, thinking of blood spilling across the floor. What a mess it would make. The clean-up would be horrendous, he thinks, laughing to himself.

Besides, Jon may be far more durable than any human, but Elias has no desire to do him any permanent damage. To rob him of life would be to rob him of some essential vitality; without that quality of metamorphosis, there would be no point in keeping him at all.

Settling into the music that he and Jon are creating, Elias lets his eyes flicker shut.

He still watches, of course. This particular gaze is carved into the makeshift cave at the back of the tank; it’s fine to give the _illusion_ of privacy, but Elias prefers it when he can keep a close eye on everything that belongs to him. 

It’s a shame that Elias has never turned his hand to the fine arts, because the sight of Jon would move a lesser man to tears. He suspends himself above the bottom of the tank with reflexive sweeps of that long, snakelike tail. His hands are pressed to the glass — his forehead, too, as though he can will himself from his confinement with simple physical effort.

Jon’s expression is nothing less than utter desolation. Through another set of eyes sat on one of the library shelves, Elias glimpses the tears that mingle with the water of the tank. 

With another flick of his tail, Jon meets Elias’ gaze. He’s been getting better at that recently; Elias will have to consider that a point of concern in future. The singing stops as Jon ducks his head, diving into the grass until he’s very nearly unseen.

A pebble looks up at Jon, an eye carved into it with an unskilled hand. 

Jon wipes at his face with one webbed hand. It’s as though he intends to erase all evidence of his tears. How human of him. It’s really quite charming.

Idly, Elias considers walking downstairs and punishing Jon for his attempts to remain unseen. But he’s rather caught up in the symphony now, humming quietly as he plays on and on. Perhaps when he reaches the crescendo — _then_ he’ll find some way to teach Jon a lesson.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed it!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] hear them whispering](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449794) by [GoLBPodfics (GodOfLaundryBaskets)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfLaundryBaskets/pseuds/GoLBPodfics)




End file.
